Common Ground
by bs13
Summary: "I'm Darcy, and I'm pretty sure that you're my baby daddy."/All human!AU. Darcy usually doesn't do one night stands. Loki doesn't either. When one drunken night gets out of control, they both have done exactly what they don't usually do...and not to mention that Darcy is now pregnant because of it.
1. Bottoms Up

**I haven't updated "Call Me Crazy, Call Me Yours" in forever. Plus I'm supposed to be working on the companion piece for "Shattered Ambitions." Obviously the way to work on both was to write this. Yay for procrastination!**

**Anyways, take this generic, cliché-filled AU. I wrote it because I wanted fluff. And a Tasertricks baby. Hopefully I'll make it less cliché than it needs to be, though, because I personally hate all the clichés I write. I also posted this on Ao3 if anyone prefers that site. I like being able to tag it, but I'm so confused by the formatting, so...I dunno how I feel yet about the site.**

**Anyways, disclaimer: I don't own Thor!**

* * *

><p>Tony Stark either knows how to throw a really good party or how to fuck somebody's life up. Maybe both, maybe neither, but either way, when Darcy Lewis wakes up in one of his guest bedrooms, naked and alone, she immediately wants to blame him for it.<p>

Darcy wraps the blankets tightly around herself as she looks around the room. There's her clothes, all over the floor. There's her cell phone, which is charging. And there's...five hundred dollars on the dresser next to her? What the hell? Did whoever she screwed last night think she was a _prostitute_?

Shaking her head, Darcy gets out of the blankets, locks the door of the guest room, and starts to throw on her clothes. She'd use the shower, but right now she can't stay here a second longer; what she did last night is kind of...haunting. Darcy just doesn't _do_ one-night stands, for one. Whoever the person last night was must've been someone pretty cute for Darcy to even _consider_ that. She closes her eyes and tries to remember who it was, but all she can conjure up is the memory of black hair and green eyes...

Darcy unlocks the door and walks out of the room, shaking her hair and sighing. Damn, her head _hurts_. She's pretty hungover, but then again, that's what always happens when Tony throws a party. Speaking of Tony, when Darcy enters the kitchen downstairs, she sees him lying down on the kitchen table nonchalantly, drinking from a vodka bottle

"Hey, Lewis," he says cheerfully. "How's your head?"

"Hurts like hell," Darcy says, and she scrunches her nose at the bottle in his hand. "What's with the drink? Isn't it still pretty early in the morning?"

"I'm the same as you— hungover," Tony says, shrugging his shoulders, and Darcy can see the bags under his eyes. "If my head hurts this much, might as well go for it, am I right?"

"Yeah, right. Pepper leave last night?" Darcy asks knowingly.

Tony huffs at the thought of his on-again, off-again girlfriend. "She didn't _leave_," he objects. "Got out the door and took off in one of my cars, sure, but she didn't leave. She's...well, she's staying. I think." He takes a swig of the bottle.

"Let's hope she does, for the sake of your sanity," Darcy remarks dryly.

"Ha ha," Tony says just as dryly. "Whatcha still doing here, anyway?"

"Don't know. I drank too much last night, screwed some guy, and then I woke up in one of your rooms alone and freaked out," Darcy says bluntly. "By the way, there's five hundred dollars on the dresser of the room for you."

"Not that I'm against free money," Tony says, raising a brow, "but isn't that meant for you? _I_ sure as hell didn't screw whoever you did, though I wish I had. Five hundred's pretty damn good for a drunken night."

"I don't want it. I'm not a whore who gets paid for that kind of stuff."

"But you could be. I mean, rhetorically speaking. You got a nice body for it. Not that I stare at your body— no, wait, of course I do. You've got a nice rack, you know that?" Tony says, pausing to take another long swig, and grimacing as it burns down his throat.

"Thanks, pedophile—

"Only five years apart. It's legal," interjects Tony.

"—but I'm sure that's why Pepper left you," Darcy finishes. "So, no more staring."

"Pepper didn't _leave_," Tony counters again. "I just told you that. She's in denial— she loves me. Just like _you_ love me, so you'd never let me stop staring at your chest because I— hey, where are you going?"

Darcy's already headed to the door. "To get to my place," she answers, turning to glance at him. "As much as I'm _enjoying_ this conversation, Jane's probably going crazy without me."  
>"Oh, yeah, your hot roommate. Tell her hi for me," Tony says.<p>

"Right. Want me to tell Pepper that, too?"

"Pepper's secure in our relationship. She didn't leave, okay?" Tony says, though the words are meant more for him than Darcy. "Just get that out of your head. It's not in mine. And anything that's not in my mind isn't worth two shits. Huh, I like that. Think that'd make a good slogan?"

"No, it wouldn't. Just remember, five hundred dollars upstairs, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Sure you don't want it?" Tony pauses. "Hey, who even _left_ you five hundred dollars? And is he into dudes? 'Cause I'm straight, but for five hundred dollars, I don't know..."

"Beats me, I was too drunk to remember," Darcy snorts.

Tony lowers his bottle— which he'd been raising to his lips— to ask, "Do you want to try to remember? I didn't invite too many people this time. I'd sure I could tell ya if you know any details."

"Thanks but no thanks. I don't need a guy right now."

"Not even one who gives out five hundred dollars out for no reason?" Tony asks, shaking his head. "Live your life, then, but I'm pretty sure you can't do much better than that."

"Thanks for your confidence, Tony." Darcy rolls her eyes. "Goodbye, okay?"

"Alright, but remember— hi to the roommate."

"Yes, the roommate with a _boyfriend_. Of course. Now I'm leaving, so don't fuck up with Pepper while I'm gone!" Darcy calls as she yanks open the front door.

"She didn't leave!" is Tony's parting call.

Darcy just gets into her parked car and starts up the engine. _Yeah, right._

* * *

><p>"Darcy! You're here!" exclaims Jane Foster as she yanks open the door of their apartment eagerly, two seconds before Darcy's hand even goes up to knock on the door.<p>

"Um, hey. Since when are you watching the door like a creeper?" Darcy asks.

Jane ignores her remark. "I was worried! Where have you been?"

"Tony's, asleep. Remind me to never go to one of his parties ever again." Darcy pushes past Jane to get inside the apartment. "Thanks for leaving without me, by the way."

"I tried to find you," Jane counters. "Thor helped, but no one had seen you."

"Ah, Thor. That explains everything," Darcy says as she peers around the living room suspiciously, removing her coat and dropping it on the couch. "He's not still here, is he?"

Jane blushes a deep red. "Um, no, he left an hour ago."

"Figures." Darcy drops on the couch beside her coat, sighing. "Got any food?"

"Thor made breakfast," Jane offers. "There's leftover waffles and eggs."

"Waffles _and_ eggs? Jane, you better not ever leave that boy," Darcy says, getting up and eagerly entering the kitchen. "I didn't even know we _had_ eggs."

"We didn't. He went out to get some," Jane says, following her.

"He _did_? Yup, it's decided, you cannot leave him. Ever." Darcy fixes herself a plate and sticks it into the microwave. "Next time make sure to have him over around dinnertime; maybe he'll whip us up something."

"Darcy, I'm not dating him because he cooks," Jane says, rolling her eyes.

"But it's a nice perk," Darcy says. "Seriously, you have all the luck in guys. You've got a sweet, attractive boyfriend who cooks since you can't and stays the night with you."

"Yeah, I guess," Jane says, looking at Darcy suspiciously (because Darcy's never been _jealous_ of Jane's relationship before). "Darcy, did something happen at Tony's that I should know about?"

"No, nothing happened," Darcy says, shrugging as she takes her plate out of the microwave. "It's just the usual story— I go to Tony's party, I get super drunk, and then I do something I regret. Last time it was sing Miley Cyrus at the top of my lungs and jump into Tony's pool, this time it was have an one night stand with someone I can't even remember."

"Wait, _what_?"

Darcy winces. "Geez, Jane, you have some seriously loud pipes. Ever tried opera?"

"Darcy. You can't be serious. You...you don't have one night stands."

"I know, right?" Darcy takes a seat, digging into her food. "Mmm, I'm starved."

"Darcy," Jane repeats, voice oddly desperate. "You're...serious?"

"Yeah I'm serious. Like, totally serious." Darcy sticks a piece of waffle in her mouth and adds, "Plus, the guy left me five hundred bucks afterwards. Who does that? He must've not been the one night stand type either."

"Five hundred?" Jane echoes. "Did you _take_ it?"

"Nah, I've got _some_ dignity," Darcy says. "Only a little bit, but it's there."

Jane sits down across from Darcy, looking utterly bewildered. "Wow, you must have been really drunk," she notes, more to herself than to Darcy. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit, but I've felt worse. I'll live, I mean."

Jane is quiet a second or two before asking, "So, um, do you know who the guy was?"

"No clue. Why?" Darcy asks, sticking more waffle in her mouth.

"Just curious." Jane starts to tap the wooden table with her slender fingers.

"You're doing the thing," Darcy calls her out.

"Huh?"

"Your nervous finger-tapping-thing. You're doing it."

Jane tucks her hand into her lap. "Well, it's just...you haven't had a boyfriend in months," she says, and her voice is quiet when she continues, "So you haven't been on birth control in months. Or have carried any form of protection with you, either."

Darcy barks out a laugh. "Jane, you can't seriously be suggesting..."

"This stuff happens with drunken hook-ups, Darcy," Jane says patiently.

"Well not with me. I'd never get pregnant. I'm twenty-three," Darcy says. "I'm too young. Hell, I'd be thirty-three and I'd be too young. I'm just not going to get pregnant because of _one_ night."

Jane bites her lip. "Well, you could take a test," she suggests. "In a few weeks, of course, to make sure enough time has passed. Please just do that for me, okay?"

"Fine. If it'll make you sleep better at night, then I will," Darcy says, continuing to eat her breakfast. "But I assure you," she adds through a mouthful of eggs, "I am _not_ pregnant."

* * *

><p><em>Holy shit.<em>

Turns out, after taking a pregnancy test three weeks after she told Jane she would, Darcy finds out that she _is_ pregnant. Or at least the three tests with matching pink plus signs say so. Maybe they're wrong, and she should send Jane back to the store to get another one...or another fifty...

Groaning, Darcy throws the pee stick away and washes her hands before quickly exiting the bathroom and going into her room (making sure to lock the door). She throws herself on the bed and continues to groan into the sheets, knowing she is _extremely_ fucked.

A knock sounds. "Darcy? Darcy, open the door," comes Jane's soft voice.

Darcy just keeps her face buried in sheets, ignoring Jane's niceness. "Jaaaane," she wails through a mouthful of cotton, "let me wallow in self-pity! My whole life is ruineeeeed!"

Jane softens when she realizes what Darcy is implying. "Darcy, I know you're...upset," she offers awkwardly, leaning against the door. "But, um, maybe this isn't as bad as you're making it out to be, and— hold on, let me guess, you have your what-the-fucking-hell face on."

"You guessed right," says Darcy, moving her face from the sheets slightly.

Jane sighs. "Look, just open the door so we can talk about this."

"Nooooo. I don't wanna," Darcy says childishly, pulling herself into a sitting position on her bed, picking up a pillow and hugging it to her chest defensively as she stares down the locked door.

Jane, on her side of the door, just rubs her face with her hands in exasperation, knowing that Darcy is too stubborn for her own good. "Well, if you're not going to open the door, then at least call for pizza; my phone's dead," she calls through the door.

"...Pizza?"

"_And_ I'm paying," Jane adds.

There is a reluctant shuffle from Darcy's part, and a minute later, she reluctantly cracks open her door to peer out at Jane suspiciously. "What about wings?" she asks.

Jane rolls her eyes. "Okay, fine."

"Yes!" Darcy opens her door fully, letting Jane enter.

Jane rolls her eyes again in a works-every-time gesture as she perches on Darcy's bed, crossing her legs. Darcy mirrors the gesture, but she keeps the pillow locked in her arms as though it's a lifesaver.

"We _are_ still talking about this, though," Jane warns.

Darcy sighs and begrudgingly says, "Fine, whatever. I might be pregnant. _Might_. I need to see at least another fifty of those tests before I start believing anything."

Jane smiles softly at her friend's antics. "Only you," she remarks fondly, but she quickly goes professional. "But, let's say this is real and you _are_ pregnant—"

"And you're supposed to be the optimist?"

"_Darcy_. Come on, focus," pleads Jane.

"I'm focusing, but I still need pizza to function," Darcy replies.

Jane rolls her eyes again. "_Darcy_. Okay, say you're pregnant—"

"I'm pregnant."

"Darcy!" exclaims Jane, exasperated.

Darcy laughs, rolling over on the bed and clutching the pillow tighter. "Sorry, but you walked into that one," she says unabashedly. "But, continue. Say I'm pregnant and-?"

"And I need to know what we're going to do about this," answers Jane.

"Hold up, unless you're expecting this to be a lesbian love story where two friends raise a baby and fall in love along the way, I think I heard you wrong. _We_?" repeats Darcy incredulously.

"Yes, _we_. I'm your best friend, and I'm going to be here for you," says Jane firmly. "Now first order or business: are you going to carry out this pregnancy?

Darcy chews the inside of her cheek as she thinks. "Er, I'm not into the whole abortion thing," she admits, "but it could be a possibility. I mean, this is a kid we're talking about! I don't want one of _those_."

"Fair enough. Second order of business: we need to find out who the father is."

"How?" Darcy asks.

"I...don't know. You don't have any first or last name?" Jane asks desperately.

"Yes, of course, along with the guy's social security number," deadpans Darcy. "I was drunk as hell, remember? Even if we _were_ on a first-name basis, I couldn't tell you."

Jane sighs in exasperation. "Well, do you remember what he looks like?"

"No," Darcy huffs. "I remember green eyes and dark hair, but that's basically it.

The look Jane gives Darcy afterwards is one of disbelief. "_No_," she trills

"What?" Darcy asks, seeing Jane's panicked eyes

Jane gets off the bed and begins to pace the room. "Unlike you, I wasn't drunk at Tony's party," she explains. "And you know, he only had a few select people over. There was only _one_ guy with dark hair and green eyes." This she says, of course, in disbelief.

"You're freaking me out, Jane. This sounds like the plot of a murder mystery," Darcy says, hugging the pillow closer to her chest. "Do you know who he is or not?"

Jane turns and gives Darcy another disbelieving look. "_Loki_."

"Gesundheit."

"No, _Loki_. That's his name!" Jane exclaims. "He's Thor's brother."

Darcy quirks an eyebrow. "Your boyfriend's brother? You've never mentioned him."

"I only met him at Tony's party. I didn't think..." Jane sighs, trailing off. "Fuck, Darcy. If he's the father, then maybe we shouldn't even bother with trying to talk to him. He's...he's..."

"...a murderer?"

"An _asshole_," Jane corrects.

Darcy raises her eyebrows. "Wow, talking bad about someone _and_ using a bad word for it," she says. "This is a new side of you, Jane; I'm beginning to think you really hate this guy."

Jane blushes. "I don't _hate_ him," she negates halfheartedly. "It's just...he's rude. And kind of arrogant. He thought I was some kind of gold digger after Thor's money, and then rudely asked Thor—right in front of my face— if I was his...you know—"

"Whore?"

Jane nods wordlessly. "I can find him on Facebook and show you his picture," she offers. "Then we can make sure he's the guy we're talking about." When Darcy agrees, Jane takes out her phone, enters all necessary inputs, and after a minute or two presents the screen.

"Huh, he looks friendly," Darcy says dryly when she sees the picture of the pale-skinned man who scowls at the camera. "But at least he's pretty good-looking. Go me.

Jane turns off her phone. "I can't believe he's the father," she says, sighing (and ignoring Darcy's last thought). "I mean, he is the father, right? You hadn't been with another guy in months.

"You make me sound like no fun."

"I'm being realistic," Jane says, sitting back on the bed. "So, now what?"

Darcy shrugs. "I dunno. I'll have to talk to this guy about this, I guess, because he has a right to know and whatever...or at least I know that's what you're going to tell me. Do you have a phone number you can give me?"

"Darcy, you are not going to do this _over the phone_," says Jane.

"Ugh, double standards," Darcy complains. "What should I do, then?"

"Maybe go see him? Meet someplace?" Jane suggests.

"Yeah, sure, sounds good...except for the fact that _I don't know who he is_," Darcy says loudly. "I have no way to contact him. He won't even know who _I_ am for God's sake."

"Tell you what: I'll text Thor," Jane says. "I can have him bring Loki somewhere, and you and I can show up so you two can talk. Where do you feel like doing this?"

"A bar," Darcy says, perking up.

"No bars. You're pregnant," Jane reminds her.

"Dammit, and just when I'd almost forgotten," says Darcy, making a sour face.

"I'll just have them meet us here," Jane suggests.

Darcy shoots her a look. "Sure, that'll make the guy want to come," she says.

"Oh, right...that'd ruin the whole 'showing up' thing," says Jane, and she mulls it over. "Dinner's out of the question, because we can't afford to eat out, and Thor says that Loki refuses to go anywhere that doesn't cost a fortune. Movies?"

"He likes movies?"

"Probably not." Jane sighs. "Okay...park?" she offers pathetically.

Darcy shrugs. "What the hell— the park it is."

* * *

><p>A day later, Darcy's prepared to go to the park with Jane— she's wearing lady-ish clothes and everything— but first, she makes Jane pull up to Tony Stark's house.<p>

Pepper answers the door. "Darcy. Hi," says the blond politely. "I didn't know you were coming over; I would've dressed nicer if I'd known we'd have company." This she says with a disapproving look to her jeans and modest blouse, because she's like that. "Come on in. Is Jane with you?"

"Yes, but, she's not coming out of the car; this'll be quick. Like, I probably only need two minutes of your time, tops. Where's Tony?" Darcy asks, stepping inside.

"Here," answers Tony comfortably from his seat on his living room couch, looking up from the tablet in his hands to focus on the brunette. "Wasn't expecting you, Darce— you here to see Pepper?"

"No, to see you," Darcy says, and she shifts uncomfortably. "You see...remember when you threw that party a while back? And...that one thing happened?"

"He told me, Darcy," Pepper tells her quietly as she sits down on the couch.

"Oh, thank God," Darcy breathes. "Well, either way, you know how the dude just left that money, and I left it here because I didn't want it? I kind of need that money now."

"I knew you'd come for it sooner or later," Tony says, chuckling. "Seriously, it's money. _Free_ money." He reaches into his back pocket, taking out his wallet. "What's it for?"

"Something," says Darcy evasively.

Tony raises his eyebrows. "Oh, the old something status. Pretty big?"

"None of your business," Darcy says. "Just dish the cash, dude."

"This feels strangely like a drug deal," Tony remarks as he slowly begins to open his wallet, riffling through the bills in a painstakingly slow manner. "Only I'm not sure I'm getting anything in return here..."

"Hey, any drugs I have are mine, not yours," Darcy says sarcastically.

Pepper cuts in, "Oh, stop teasing, Tony— give her the money."

"_Pepper_, you're supposed to be on my side here," Tony says, faking a pout as he takes out five dollar bills and holds them out to Darcy. "I'm hurt. Truly."

"I'm sure you'll get over it," Pepper says, rolling her eyes to Darcy, who grins.

"Thanks, guys, you're saving my ass here," declares Darcy as she pockets the money. "Well, Jane's waiting for me in the car and is probably changing my radio station, so, see you guys later?"

"See ya, Lewis," Tony says, lazily saluting her.

Pepper walks her to the door, bids her own goodbye, and then Darcy is out and back into the car with Jane. Jane is tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, looking to Darcy as soon as she enters.

"Did you get it?" she questions.

"Yup. Pfft, this really _does_ feel like some drug deal," Darcy snickers.

Jane is smart enough not to ask what she's talking about. "Great. Let's go."

But even with everything going to plan, for the rest of the drive to the park, every time the car slows to stop at a red light all Darcy hears is tap, tap, tapping from nervous, slender fingers on the steering wheel.

"What are you nervous for?" Darcy asks finally.

"Me?" Jane says. Tap. "I'm not nervous." Tap, tap, tap.

"Uh-huh." Darcy eyes her roommate and arguable best friend wearily. "I can handle your tapping, but just remember that that you vomit when you're nervous, too."

"I do not— hey, we're here," Jane says, relieved as she pulls into a parking spot.

"Sure, change the subject," mutters Darcy as she unbuckles her seatbelt, unlocking the car doors and hopping out. "Thor already here?" she asks Jane, who is just exiting the car.

"Not yet," she answers. "Let's go sit and wait."

"Can do," Darcy says. Jane's about to sit down on a park bench, but Darcy tugs her in the direction of the swings, which are child-less and tons more fun than a concrete bench.

They sit there, Jane stiffly and Darcy swinging her legs, in utter silence. Jane checks her phone periodically, but Darcy just focuses on their surroundings. The crisp autumn air is nice, but there's only a few kids out, playing. Darcy finds herself watching them, wondering what her kid would be like, and if he or she would one day run and play through this very same park...

She shivers involuntarily. Out of cold, of course.

"Look, he's here," Jane blurts, and Darcy looks up to see Thor walking towards them, dressed in a huge red sweatshirt, sporting his usual blond stubble to match his tousled blond hair, and a huge smile across his face (directed at Jane, of course).

Jane gets off the swing and into her boyfriend's arms eagerly. As they share a kiss, Darcy quickly looks away...and finds herself staring into two green, somewhat icy eyes. Thor's brother, the infamous Loki, is standing before her.

Darcy tries to imagine why she'd have sex with him. He's definitely attractive; though paler and thinner than Thor, he's got a smooth, sly charisma to him that Darcy can't deny. Plus, while Thor rocks the adorably casual look, Loki has a neater, smoother way of dressing, decked out in a thin black coat and with a green scarf fixed perfectly around his neck. But either way, what's done is done (even if the proof is living in Darcy's stomach).

"Jane, Darcy, what a pleasure to see you both," Thor says warmly.

"Hey, big guy," Darcy says, waving two fingers at him.

Jane clears her throat. "Um, hi, Loki," she offers.

Loki looks at her, grunting a reply. "Hello..._Jane_."

Thor looks between the two of them, his smile a lot more forced. "Brother," he starts tentatively, "I know I promised you that I would bring you to this favorite place of mine so we could spend time together—"

"But since your girlfriend is here, that isn't going to happen, is it," states Loki, his voice dripping with disdain. "You know, I wouldn't have come if I'd known; I was only taking pity on you this once."

"Of course." Thor's smile becomes more and more fake. "Well, the thing is, Loki..."

Darcy decides to cut Thor some slack and let his awkward transition end. "I asked him to make you come here," she pipes up, which makes Loki turn to glare at her, those green eyes no longer icy, but befuddled. "I'm Darcy, and I'm pretty sure that you're my baby daddy."

Loki's eyes widen in alarm. "I beg your pardon?" he sputters.

Jane quickly moves Thor away, stammering an excuse Darcy and Loki disregard.

"Sorry, that's normal for me. Anyway, let's start simple: do you remember me?" asks Darcy.

Loki's eyes stay wide in alarm, but he manages out, "I...only remember your face. Before leaving Stark's home, I awoke beside you, with a terrible headache and no idea as to what has transpired the night before."

"Same, only I woke up alone," Darcy says. "And with five hundred dollars beside me. Speaking of..." She digs into her pockets and holds out the cash. "Here."

Loki eyes the bills. "I left that behind," he objects.

"Yeah, well, I'm not a whore for you to be paying," Darcy says, shoving the money into his chest. "So just take the goddamn money, okay? I'm not going to keep it just because I slept with you."

Loki looks as though he wants to argue, but finally, he takes the money.

"Okay, now that that's out of the way, what I said still stands," Darcy says. "I'm pretty sure you're my baby daddy. Thing is, I hadn't been with a guy in ages. I wake up next to you, naked, and then boom! Three weeks later, I'm pregnant. So—"

Darcy stops, however, when Loki turns and abruptly walks away before she's even done talking. As Darcy watches, he stalks to the parking lot, enters Thor's car, and is out of the parking lot in a matter of seconds, the tires of the car squealing as he gets away.

Thor gets angry, of course, when he notices, and goes into a fit, mumbling words in some foreign language and calling Loki every two seconds. Jane, after reassuring Thor some, then goes over by Darcy and wordlessly takes her arm with hers, glancing at the younger women apologetically every few seconds.

"So," Darcy says finally, "that went..._well_."


	2. Fire Burns

**Two days ago it was rachelisafallenangel's birthday. This chapter is dedicated to her, because obviously, she's perfect and even though she deserves better than this, this is all I have to offer. Sadly.**

**I'm sorry this chapter is so short. I'll try to make it longer next time.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Thor.**

* * *

><p>The mouthful of alcohol in Loki's mouth burns as it goes down his throat, but it's hardly noticable against the rising panic that settles in his gut, twisting his insides and making him feel sick. He wants to get drunk. So drunk he'll forget everything that has happened today (even if getting drunk is what caused him this grief in the first place).<p>

Loki slams his empty glass down, head falling low in shame. _A father_. He's going to be a _father_. To an illegitimate child, he might add. How is it that his life has turned upside down in such short time? He's twenty-five for God's sake; he's not ready for a child. Loki calls for another glass miserably, about to keep moping, when he hears a loud, powerful voice.

"Loki!" It's Thor, clearing past drunken men and women with his high, muscled frame, his jaw clenched and the anger showcased plain as day with every powerful stride he takes.

"Thor," Loki mocks dryly, but he's barely said his brother's name when Thor's powerful fist collides with Loki's jaw. The impact of Thor's rough knuckles jerks Loki's head to the side uncomfortably, to which Loki grits his teeth at, while Thor yanks back his arm powerfully.

"Why did you leave?" Thor demands loudly.

"It's nice to see you too, brother," Loki says lightly, rubbing his jaw gingerly.

"Don't attempt to make pleasantries. What the hell was that back there?" Thor asks angrily. "Darcy gave you very important news, and you went running like a frightened animal?"

"So you know this woman," notes Loki.

"Of course. She is Jane's roommate. I know her very well," Thor says.

"Yes, well, I don't," Loki retorts, and he rises from his seat at the bar, leveling his body to Thor's. "Now _you_ attempt to meet a woman and find out she is carrying your child. What would you do?"

"Not run like a coward," Thor snaps, and he's angrier than Loki's ever known him to be. "Do you know what impression you've left? Darcy and Jane think you indifferent to Darcy's pregnant state."

"I wish I _were_ indifferent," mutters Loki.

"You must make amends, Loki," Thor says, ignoring his younger brother's remark.

Loki plunks down in his seat once more. "What good will it do?" he hisses, angrily shoving the filled glass the bartender has set before him away. "This woman must despise me now."

"Would you blame her?" Thor takes a seat beside him. "I advise you to speak to Darcy, brother; there is nothing you have to lose. You have done wrong, but I assure you, I will be with you every step of the way. Provided, of course, that you take on this responsibility."

"You mean raise a child? With...this _Darcy_?" Loki questions.

"Perhaps. She is the one carrying the child, after all; you must know that if she does not want you to be involved, you will not be. And then there is the question as to whether or not she is going to continue the pregnancy. She, too, is very young; there is no telling what she might do."

"Would she _terminate_ the pregnancy?" Loki asks.

Thor shrugs. "Alas, I do not know that Darcy Lewis _that_ well," he says.

Now, Loki has always been a good (though _good_ might be a bit of a stretch) boy. He's a devout Christian, and has been raised to believe abortion is definitely not an option. Then again, he's also been raised not to engage in sexual relationships before marriage, and look where that has left him.

"For once in your life, Thor, you may be right," Loki says, sighing, for he knows very well that he cannot let Darcy do anything hasty when he is just as much to blame as she is. "Alright. I'll speak to her."

"Good," Thor says, but then pauses. "What do you mean for once in my life?"

* * *

><p>Jane looks in Darcy's direction. Again. Which she has been doing for the past hour or so since they got back from the park since they settled down at the kitchen table to eat the pizza they'd gotten ("Pity pizza," Darcy had dubbed it as, while Jane'd rolled her eyes).<p>

"So," Jane starts slowly.

Darcy rolls her eyes, knowing Jane is beating around the bush. "So," she echoes.

"So..." Jane drags out the word carefully, as if it's already offensive.

"Just spit it out, Jane," Darcy says, tired. "I just want to go to sleep."

Jane starts to tap her fingers. "Well," she starts, "that...didn't go as planned."

"Surprise, surprise," Darcy mocks as she chews on a piece of pepperoni.

"Come on, Darcy, be serious," Jane pleads, leaning forward on the chair she's sitting in, assessing Darcy quietly with her brown eyes from her spot across from her. "What are we going to do?"

"What do you mean? We told the guy, didn't we?" Darcy asks. "That's it— we're done. We told him what we needed to, and he went running. Kinda like all the guys I've dated, when you think about it," she muses as she takes another bite of pizza. "Not that I was dating him. Or that I'd want to."

Jane sucks in a breath. "Yeah, but, aren't you pissed he left?" she asks.

"Sure. Maybe. I don't know," says Darcy, shrugging. "I didn't know him, so it's like, no loss, no gain. I'm still me, he's still whoever he is, but of course, now I'm pregnant."

"Without support," adds Jane.

"I thought _you_ were my support," says Darcy teasingly.

"Of course, but I mean without _his_ support," Jane says, and she rubs her temple, poking at a slice of pizza with her finger tentatively. "This is horrible. I knew he was an asshole, but this—" She breathes in sharply. "This is a new level of asshole. He didn't even offer money or talk to you about it. He just..._left_."

"I'm sensing you're more upset about this than I am," Darcy interjects.

"Well I _am_ upset. But...more than you?" Jane asks, looking disappointed.

Darcy laughs a little. "I'm okay, Jane, honest. I never needed him."

"Of course you didn't, but for him to just _leave_ like that was inexcusable. He's got just as much blame as you do; he can't just expect _you_ to be the sole caregiver of the child," Jane says, starting to look angry now (Darcy blames the science teacher part of her). "That's a low move!"

"Well, it might've been a low one, but it was his," Darcy says. "And really, I'm fine. I don't need him, or his money, or his _anything_. I can do this on my own."

Jane looks at her carefully. "So you're going to do this?" she asks softly.

"Might as well," Darcy says, trying to smile, but suspecting it to look like a grimace.

Jane bites her lip, leaning back in her chair. "Well, I'm here for you," she reminds her.

"Like I'd forget that," Darcy teases, grinning. "Best friends are for that, aren't they?"

Jane sees the look on her face and immediately begins to backtrack. "Oh no, do _not_ get into that," she groans. "I know you're going to use that against me someday."

Darcy continues to grin. "Of course. Who do you think I _am_?"

Jane cracks a smile at that. "You're taking this better than I thought you would."

"Yeah, well, I have to," says Darcy pointedly. "You're freaking out, Thor's freaking out, Loki is freaking _out_— as in literally out— and my parents are a matter we haven't touched. I have to be the sane one _sometimes_."

"Oh my God, your _parents_," Jane says, and her mouth falls open in realization.

"Yeah." Darcy purposely grimaces this time. "And then, Tony."

Jane immediately makes a sympathetic face. "Oh yeah, _Tony_."

"Right?" says Darcy with a sigh before she asks hopefully, "So, does calling work for _this_?"

Jane gives Darcy her famous bitch-do-you-even-have-to-ask-face.

"...Point taken."

* * *

><p>Tony Stark is on fucking cloud nine. No, wait, he's higher than cloud nine. He's like on cloud five hundred— pun intended— because of all things Darcy Lewis can come and tell him, it's that Five Hundred Bucks (aka mystery guy that screwed Darcy) is now the father of her baby.<p>

"No," Tony says gleefully, looking at the way Darcy avoids his eyes after she's delivered the big news. "You're _kidding_. Five Hundred Bucks is your _baby daddy_?"

"Get that stupid grin of your face," Darcy huffs. "So what if he is?"

Tony tries not to laugh, but the sound slips out anyway. "That's fucking awesome," he says, chuckling. "Like, rom-com shit, this-only-happens-in-fucking-movies _awesome_."

Pepper, being the (not) supportive girlfriend that she is, rolls her eyes. "Ignore him, Darcy," she says, shooting Tony a look (that he ignores, because hey, he's _right_ about this).

"Been doing it my whole life," Darcy jokes.

Tony places a hand to his chest, huffing indignantly. "She came to see _me_, Pepper, not you," he tells his girlfriend childishly before turning back to Darcy. "This is real, then? You found Five Hundred Bucks and told him he's your baby daddy? How'd he take it?"

"He, uh...ran," Darcy admits sheepishly.

"Understandable," jokes Tony, which earns him an elbow in the ribs. "Ow! Pepper!"

"Whatever, Tony," Darcy grumbles.

Tony rubs his side and pointedly moves away from Pepper, looking instead to Darcy (who hasn't hit him _yet_). "Fine. So you're pregnant," he says. "What do you want from me? Advice?"

"No. You're the worst person to ever get advice from," Darcy answers easily (a little too easily, might Tony add, which is probably just as hurtful as Pepper's elbow).

"Excuse you, you're forgetting who you're talking to," Tony negates. "I'm _awesome_."

Darcy just looks to Pepper. "I thought I'd tell you guys first, besides Jane," she explains. "I actually thought Tony would've made a lot more fun about this, though, so you two were the get-it-out-of-the-way couple. Oh well."

"You've got another couple to tell?" Pepper asks.

"Yeah— my parents."

Tony feels the smirk pulling on his lips before Pepper can even send him a disapproving look. "Your parents," he echoes teasingly. "The ones who are all religious and crazy?"

"That about sums them up," Darcy says with a sigh. "And yeah, I do."

Pepper speaks up. "I'm sure you'll be fine," she says. "All parents dream about the day they become grandparents, don't they? I'm sure they'll welcome a baby into their family. If you're keeping it, of course, I didn't want to assume—"

"Back up, Salty, you've got a point," Darcy says, chewing on her lip.

"_Salty_? That's not even clever," Tony says. "Tell her it isn't clever, Pepper."

"What do you mean?" questions Pepper (to Darcy, not Tony).

"If I don't keep it they'd never find out. That'd— that'd work, wouldn't it?" Darcy asks.

Pepper blinks, surprised. "Well, it's your decision," she says.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa— abortion?" Tony cuts in. "You're into that, Lewis?"

"I'm a political science student. Of course I'm into the whole every-woman-owns-her-body-and-can-do-whatever-they-want with it," says Darcy, looking offended he hadn't assumed it already. "But I'd already told Jane I'd do it. Fuck it, I don't know. I have no idea what to do. This is dumb. I shouldn't do this. But unless I do..."

Tony whistles lowly in amusement. "Well, make up your mind," he tells her. "I have to know whether or not we have to celebrate, ergo, whether or not I throw you a bangin' party—"

"We are _not_ going to celebrate," Pepper informs Tony immediately.

"But she's welcoming a bundle of screaming, pooping joy into her life. Or she might. What do ya say, Darce? Should we hang up streamers and break out the wine?" asks Tony, looking two seconds away from doing just that.

"She can't drink wine," Pepper reminds him.

"What? Since when?"

Darcy ignores him, much to Tony's annoyance. "Maybe I'll hold off on telling my parents," she says, finally. "I'll have to talk this over with Jane. I told her I'd do it, but, I don't know now. Maybe it's better if I think about it."

"Yes, that sounds good," Pepper says, grateful Darcy hadn't been listening to Tony. "And you know, whatever you decide, Tony and I are here for you."

"Hey, speak for yourself," Tony starts, but when Pepper elbows him again, he yelps in pain. "Ow! Okay, okay, you got it, Darce— whatever path you take, we're going down it with ya. Unless it's long and boring, like this conversation, which we should really spice up, so, who wants some vodka?"

"She can't drink that either, Tony," says Pepper patiently.

"What? Since when?"

* * *

><p>Kids are <em>insane<em>.

Darcy wrinkles her nose in disgust when she walks by the park, seeing a little boy shoving pebbles into his nose. Ugh, and his mom wasn't even paying attention to him; it disgusted Darcy even further. Darcy would've never gone for a walk to clear her head if she knew she'd have seen this.

Then again, maybe it's her pregnancy that's making her see these things. If Darcy had gone walking by the park a week earlier, she never would've given a single glance to any kids; she would've been too focused on earbuds in her ears, a good rock song playing, and recalling the latest episode of Game of Thrones. Now, however, all she can notice are kids. Kids crying, kids laughing, kids playing...

"Moooom! He took my car!" screams one kid.

His brother or something denies it. "No I didn't! He's a _liar_!" he shrieks, pushing the first kid to the floor and making him begin to wail as a harried mother rushes to deal with them.

Darcy must've been making a face, because as the mother passed her, the woman gave Darcy a nasty look. Whatever, like Darcy cares; she just walks on, reaching the abandoned park swings and sitting down in one of them. She glances to the sky and feels a pent-up sigh release. Everything is so fucked up. Her _life_ is so fucked up. She doesn't know what the hell she's going to do anymore.

Kids are too much. Darcy could never take care of a kid; she's too loud-mouthed, too scatter-minded, too _Darcy_. And not to mention the fact that she's in college, of course. She works at a coffee shop to make money; she can barely support herself, let alone a _kid_. Pepper's comment made her realize that, yeah, maybe her parents _would_ like a grandchild, but Darcy knows for sure they'd never accept any kid of hers unless she is married and lives in the suburbs or some shit.

Maybe abortion's too _much_, though. Like it or not, Darcy knows she's got a baby in her stomach that has potential to live, to grow, to be loved, no matter if it's ugly as fuck right now and probably can't feel. Can babies even feel in the womb? Darcy doesn't even know two shits about what it is to be pregnant; she'd have to research, and try to get another job to get money...

Adoption, maybe? Darcy blows her hair out of her face, exasperated, because she can't make up her mind. This kind of thing isn't supposed to happen to her. Why does it HAVE to be her? Couldn't the universe have chosen some _other_ stupid girl who'd had a drunken one-night stand? Couldn't she just—

"Excuse me...Ms. Lewis?"

Darcy looks away from the sky, her eyes dizzily refocusing as they fall on the tall man— _Loki_, Darcy realizes murderously— that has seemingly come out of nowhere, hands stuck in his pockets and a quiet, pensive look on his face...and a giant bruise on his jaw.

"Jesus Christ," Darcy blurts out. "What happened to you?"

Loki ruefully touches his jaw. "Thor," he answers simply. "I reckon I deserved it."

"You did," Darcy assures him.

Loki nods, looking down at the ground once before fixing his eyes on hers. He opens his mouth, then shuts it, and his jaw twitches nervously before he finally says, "I apologize for leaving as hastily as I did. May I...sit?" He eyes the swing beside hers sort of distastefully.

"Be my guest," Darcy says, shrugging, "though just a warning— I should hate you."

"I would not blame you if you did," Loki says, and he takes a seat. He looks hilarious on the swing, because he's much taller than Darcy and looks very uncomfortable to be sitting there, so that makes Darcy feel a little better. "May I call you Darcy?"

"Beats Ms. Lewis, so sure," Darcy says.

"Thank you," says Loki quietly, and he exhales deeply before speaking again. "You must know that what I did with you...the whole 'one-night' notion...well, it's nothing I'd ever done before. I had felt horrible after that night, and upon finding out that you were with child...well, I couldn't help but panic and leave as fast as I could to the nearest bar."

Darcy snorts at that. "Well, that's nice for _you_," she says snippily, letting her anger vibrate in each word. "_I_ couldn't go to a bar when I found out. I _still_ can't."

"Perhaps you are not understanding me—"

"No, I understand you _fine_. You found out you were gonna be a dad and you felt the need to go running— I get that. You tried to drown your feelings with alcohol. Been there, done that. Point is, it's whatever. You don't have to come and apologize," Darcy says, kicking her legs a little to start swinging slightly.

Loki sighs a little more forcefully than he needs to. "I understand you're upset—"

"Upset doesn't cover it, okay?" Darcy snaps, finally, twisting her head to angrily speak. "It was bad enough to wake up and realized I'd slept with someone, because I don't do one-night stands, but then I had to _meet_ you and you just _embarrassed_ me in front of Jane and Thor by leaving. I get it! No one wants to be involved with me! But you could've at least said—"

"Would you stop talking?" Loki interrupts.

"Hey, I'm _ranting_," Darcy complains. "You can't just—"

"I want to be involved," Loki cuts her off.

Darcy blinks. "Um...repeat that?"

Loki places a hand over his lips, eyes rolling in exasperation. "I...I _want_ to be involved," he repeats, removing his hand. "If you...well, if you've planned to keep the child."

"Uh...I haven't..._thought_ about it. No, no, I _have_. I've thought about keeping it, and about...other measures, but I haven't decided anything yet. I've been thinking of cons and trying to imagine what it'd be like, because I have zero experience with kids. Like, I'm an only child, and I was a fucking weird kid— wait, where was I going with this?"

"Just say you will not terminate your pregnancy," Loki says. "Please."

"Wait...you want this?" Darcy asks before she quickly backtracks. "Not that I'm calling the kid in me a thing, but, you seriously want to go through with this? You...want me to birth this thing? Dammit, _now_ I called it a thing..."

"Yes," Loki says, ignoring her ramblings. "I want to be involved in this. _All_ of this. In your pregnancy, in our child's life...I don't want you to terminate the pregnancy. I can pay for anything you'd like me to. Doctor's appointments, baby things, anything. Just...please."

"Oh. Um, okay," Darcy says, surprised. "I'd planned on thinking about it more, but, what the hell— if you're in, I guess I kinda have to be in too. Now, how exactly are we going to—"

"Marry me."

Darcy's mouth falls open. "Uh, _excuse_ me?"

"Marry me," Loki repeats, his eyebrows knit together in surprise, as if he'd expected her to start swooning and dropping to his feet, thanking him for his _oh-so-gracious_ proposal.

"Dude, what the fuck?!" Darcy exclaims. "_No_!"

Loki looks extremely surprised now. "No?" he echoes disbelievingly.

"No!" Darcy cries. "I'm twenty-three. I don't want— no, I don't _need_— to be married. I—I don't even _know_ you. Why the fuck would I _marry_ you?"

Loki's jaw tightens, and he looks very tired all of a sudden. "I am aware that we don't know each other very well," he says. "The thing is, my parents are very religious. They would frown upon our having a child, unless, well..."

"We were married," Darcy finishes.

"Yes," Loki breathes out, relieved that she has caught on (and also looking a little embarrassed). "Trust me, I'd never have proposed otherwise; I'm not as old-fashioned as that."

"I get that, strangely. My own parents are weird like that, too," Darcy muses.

"So you'll do it." Asshole doesn't even ask.

"Hey, just because my parents are like that doesn't mean I'll—" Darcy pauses when her cell phone buzzes in her pocket. Glancing at the screen— a single text message from her mother that reads "**Your friend Tony sent me a text. Didn't know you were pregnant**"— she groans into her hand, peeks over her fingers to see Loki staring at her questioningly, and says, "So. Us getting married. How soon can that happen, exactly?"

* * *

><p><strong>I love (in the most un-creepy way possible) the following people:<strong>

**FloraIrmaTylee**

**microsophie**

**JigokuShoujosRevenge**

**Nolesr1**

**Arianne1**

**Thank you for thr amazing reviews, guys! They made my day! :)**


	3. Beez In the Trap

**Filler chapter! I know, three chapters in and a filler chapter? I suck. But don't worry, there's plenty of Darcy-ness, and new characters being introduced, and new developments too.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Thor.**

* * *

><p>"I have to cut a bitch."<p>

Jane looks up from the papers she'd been grading rather peacefully at the kitchen table. "Hi, Darcy," she says, patiently setting down her red pen. "Is something the matter? I thought you were going out for a walk."

"I have to cut a bitch," Darcy repeats.

"Yeah, no...I got that. So, um, which bitch?" Jane asks tentatively.

Darcy plunks down in the chair across from Jane's, grabbing Jane's water glass and downing its meager contents. "Tony," she says simply, frowning down at the cup. "I want something stronger than water," she complains to herself.

"What? Why Tony?" Jane asks, confused.

Darcy gets up and pours herself a glass of orange juice (though she looks longingly to a bottle of tequila in the cabinet). "Because he's a fucking idiot," she answers Jane's question, taking a large gulp of her drink and tearing her eyes away from the tempting tequila bottle.

"Why is that?" Jane asks, frowning at her taken cup.

"He texted my parents, the bastard," Darcy says darkly.

Jane scrunches her nose in confusion. "I...need more information than that."

"He told them, Jane. He told them _everything_. Well, actually, I don't know about _everything_, but he did tell them I was pregnant," says Darcy, pondering the situation. "If he told them everything, then I'm not just going to cut him, I'm going to kill him."

Jane's mouth drops open. "He told your _parents_? Why? How?"

"He's met them. That probably means he got their number, though I don't know WHY he did it," Darcy says with a frown as she sips at her drink more leisurely.

"So what are you going to do now?" Jane asks carefully.

Darcy starts to laugh, such a dry, sarcastic laugh that makes Jane uncomfortable. "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you," she says, her voice as scornful as her laugh. "How do you feel about being my fucking maid of honor?"

"Are...are you drunk?" Jane eyes Darcy's drink suspiciously, knowing that Darcy, prior to today, never _just_ drank orange juice. "You know that's bad for the baby."

"No, but I wish I was," Darcy says, glancing at her drink herself, as if blaming it for her misery. "Give me some credit, Jane—I'm not an alcoholic who needs to get drunk every day."

"Well, you can never know, with you," Jane says defensively, to which Darcy huffs at. "Now, tell me exactly what you mean about 'maid of honor'."

Darcy shrugs. "Isn't it obvious? I'm getting married."

"I mean it, Darcy—what's going on?"

Darcy runs her finger around the rim over her cup, wishing it was lined with margarita salt. "I'm getting married," she repeats, her voice falling lower, her tone somewhat tired. "For real."

Jane raises her eyebrows. "But you're not in a serious relationship with anyone. And you sound kind of upset about it," she says confusedly. "Are you..._high_, maybe?"

"I'm not on _drugs_," Darcy defends herself, but Jane hears the quiet "unfortunately" she drops under her breath. "I was going for that walk, minding my own business and judging this lady at the park, and then who shows up but our good _friend_ Loki."

"Your..." Jane stops. "I mean, Thor's brother?"

"None other than," Darcy affirms. "We talked a little, he wants to be involved with the baby, it should be all good, right? But then he drops the 'm' word, and I start freaking the fuck out—"

"He proposed?" Jane asks. "And you said yes?"

"I said no!" Darcy cries.

Jane takes Darcy's cup, pondering her friend's words as she sips from the tart liquid. "Okay, so, he proposed, and you said no. That doesn't explain why you're getting married," she says.

Darcy takes her cup (that was once Jane's) back pointedly. "I wasn't _going_ to get married," she grumbles. "My mom texted. Said she didn't know I was pregnant, and that _Tony_ told her I was. I was fucking pissed, and I told Loki I'd do it."

Jane winces, imagining the severity of the information. "Ah, that explains why you want to cut Tony," she says, shaking her head at the thought of their friend's stupidity.

"See, this is why we're best friends," Darcy says, grinning at Jane over the rim of her orange juice appreciatively. "You don't disagree with cutting bitches."

"I never said I didn't disagree—I've just stopped trying to talk you out of it. Besides, you never _actually_ cut anyone," Jane says, "though this time I'm not so sure if you won't."

"Stay unsure," Darcy advises.

Jane's lips twitch into a makeshift smile. "Should I warn Pepper?"

"I'm pretty sure she'd be into it," Darcy interjects as she stands up, draining the last of her juice and dropping the glass in the sink. "I'm going to work. You want to come? I'll probably drop by Tony's when my shift is over."

"And risk going to jail for witnessing and not reporting a murder? No thanks."

.

.

.

"Late again," comes the wry words of Natasha Romanov.

"I know. But I totally have a reason," Darcy informs her coworker as she drops her bag in the locker specified for her stuff. When Natasha keeps staring, obviously expecting a continuation, Darcy adds, "...that I don't feel like saying yet."

"Hope you feel like saying it when Fury rolls around," Natasha says, looking amused.

"Ugh, okay, fine," Darcy says, knowing her meddlesome sort-of friend won't give her peace until she does. "I was busy telling my roommate about my engagement and how I was going to cut a bitch, and I realized I had to shower, so now I'm late."

Natasha raises an eyebrow. "You're getting married?"

"Yes. Probably. Maybe." Darcy pauses. "We didn't discuss specifics."

"But you agreed," Natasha states.

"Technically. Would it be wrong to back out of a wedding when you've said you'd do it?" Darcy asks as she walks back to the front of the coffee shop, Natasha following behind her.

"Depends," Natasha says, eyes glittering dangerously. "Your guy that bad?"

Darcy half-laughs, half-sighs. "Dunno," she answers. "I don't really know him."

"Sounds like a dramatic movie line," Natasha says disapprovingly.

"No, I'm serious—I really don't know him. I met him, like, today."

Both of Natasha's eyebrows go up. "How desperate are you to get laid, exactly?"

"Not the point here," Darcy huffs. "Look, the thing is, I'm pregnant."

Natasha connects the dots. "Oh," she says blandly. "That's it?"

"What?"

"_That's_ the only reason you're getting married to a guy you've barely met?" Natasha clarifies, shaking her head when Darcy nods confusedly. "Clearly you and I are from different worlds." This she says as she sashays to the register, greeting the customer waiting there without glancing back at Darcy.

Darcy, meanwhile, blinks after her. "What? You've had to marry a guy you've just met for a _different_ reason?" she asks, and when she doesn't get an answer, she childishly whines, "I thought you had a boyfriend! I didn't know you were married!"

Customer's order taken, Natasha looks in Darcy's direction and grins slyly. "I'm not," she says. "Almost was, though. Guy was a criminal, trying to make himself look like he had a life outside the prison to get off his parole early."

"So did the police get him?" Darcy asks, eyes wide and curious.

"No," Natasha replies airily. "He got sentenced to the Death Penalty."

"So...the police _did_ get him?" Darcy asks, confused.

Natasha's grin is positively dangerous. "I never said the _police_ sentenced him."

Darcy decides then that Natasha is hella scary and also totally awesome.

Speaking of, Natasha goes now, moving to prepare the order she had taken. That leaves Darcy alone at the register...and also at her boss's mercy, because who should emerge from the break room than none other than Nicholas Fury.

"Heeeeey, Nicky," Darcy says weakly. "How've you been?"

Fury—which is what Natasha calls him, because he's always angry—scowls at her. "The fuck are you doing, Lewis?" he demands. "You're late, and you're not even in uniform."

Darcy glances down at her not-black shirt and not-jeans. Okay, so she's in yoga pants and a rockin' purple Pierce the Veil shirt, whatever. "In my defense," she says, "I am totally going to change."

"No you aren't," Fury says, voice harsh, but knowing.

"...True. But!" Darcy quickly raises a finger. "I am going to come in uniform next week, pinky-promise-cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die seriously."

Fury rolls his one eye (he severed the other in a car accident and wears an eyepatch like a badass pirate). "You're lucky I don't fire you," he tells his employee matter-of-factly as he begins to walk away.

"Love you too, boss!" Darcy calls after him.

Nick so loves her.

Darcy gets to work—real, actual working—and doesn't quit until her shift's over. Her shift has only been about four hours, but unfortunately, it's late by the time it's over; it's already ten at night. Darcy decides not to go to Stark's (she'll spare him _this_ time) and just head home for the night.

"Can I catch a ride?" Natasha asks as she joins Darcy to lock up the shop.

"Sure," Darcy says, grabbing her stuff. She often takes Natasha home because Natasha's boyfriend who drives her to work is forgetful (Natasha sticks to "fucking idiot who can't keep track of time," but Darcy, though feeling that's true, sticks to "forgetful"). "To your place?"

"Yeah, thanks."

They're on their way a few minutes later, seated in the car. Natasha hits the radio's power button and starts to sing along to whatever rock song has come on, having recognized it instantly. Darcy looks at her, appreciating the music, before her mind wanders and she begins to think about Natasha and Clint. They've been dating at least five years now (and not to mention they have a three-year-old kid on top of it). Darcy's never been in a relationship that long. Or for long at all.

Which sucks, when she thinks about it.

"So your wedding," Natasha says, breaking into Darcy's thoughts. "Is it going to be a formal thing, or is it going to be a hit-up-Las-Vegas thing and come home to the in-laws?"

Darcy has to give Natasha credit—the woman always catches on to what's going on, even when she's not told. "Well, we haven't talked specifics yet," Darcy replies. "But I'm thinking he's the type to do a formal thing."

"One of those guys, huh?" Natasha cranks up the music louder. "Well, you could've done worse," she says, and she cracks a smile and adds, "You could've gotten a guy like Tony."

"Thank the Lord I didn't," Darcy says, shivering, and Natasha throws back her head and laughs in agreement. "The bad thing is, the guy _knows_ Tony. I'd probably better give you a name, actually—"

"Loki Odison," Natasha cuts in.

Darcy blinks. "Okay, I know you're good, but how the fuck do you know?"

Natasha points to Darcy's purse, which draws Darcy's attention to it. "Your purse has been glowing every minute or so," Natasha says like it's obvious. "And it's been vibrating. My guess is he's called at least ten times."

"My purse is _closed_," Darcy argues. "It's not like you have x-ray vision."

Natasha gives her a smug smirk. "I always take my break after yours, you know."

"...You're fucking insane, you know that, right?"

"Of course," says Natasha, huffing like it's obvious.

"I'm serious, dude. If it was anyone else, I'd taser the shit out of them for going through my phone and probably stealing all my gum too," Darcy says, eyeing Natasha's mouth.

Natasha blows a small bubble to indicate that Darcy is right. "You need better flavors," she informs her. "Bubblegum is too sweet." Natasha lowers her window, letting the cool night air blow through her short, red locks of hair before she adds, "So are you ever going to answer that, or what?"

Darcy glances back to her glowing purse. "Oh, yeah, I probably should."

In a blink of an eye, Natasha's opened Darcy's purse and takes her cell phone in hand. As Darcy protests, Natasha waxes lyrical about using a phone while driving and instead answers the phone for Darcy.

"Hello?" Natasha speaks briskly. "...No, this isn't a wrong number. You're calling for Darcy Lewis, right?...Exactly, this is her cell phone...No, I can't put her on right now. She's busy...What do you mean 'who are you?' I'm Darcy's girlfriend, you asshole..."

Darcy decides that she loves Natasha.

"What do you mean she's _engaged_ to you? She loves _me_...listen the fuck up, you bastard—she doesn't want anything to do with you. Put it back in your pants and go cry to your mommy—"

Darcy, even though loving the way Natasha messes with Loki, pulls over the car to take the phone. "Hey, Loki," she says into the receiver, still grinning from the whole Natasha thing.

Loki's voice rings in her ears, clearly horrified. "Darcy, you are in a relationship?"

Darcy can't help it—she starts to laugh. Like full-on _cackle_, haggard witch style. "Don't mind Natasha. She's just a friend of mine," she tells him, waving the matter away. "So why're you so thirsty?"

"What? I am very well hydrated," Loki's voice sounds, confused.

Darcy laughs at that too. "I mean, why have you been calling so much?"

"I'm afraid our situation has become dire," Loki says gravely.

"...Did your brother die? Because Jane'll kill him."

"My brother is alive." A beat. "For now. I may have to kill him myself."

"Jane'll kill both of you, then," Darcy says. "What's going on?"

Loki seemingly sucks in a breath from his line. "You mentioned your friend told your mother of your pregnancy, yes? Well, Thor did something just as bad; he told my parents that you and I were engaged."

"...Um, yeah, isn't that what we kinda _are_?" Darcy asks.

"That is not where the situation becomes dire, Darcy," Loki says. "The problem is, my mother has decided to fly in with my father and throw us a wedding."

Okay, so Darcy and Loki hadn't talked specifics about the whole wedding thing. But Darcy knows that the guy doesn't want anything huge, and she assumed they'd have wanted something small, quick, and painless before breaking the tale of their pregnancy. But now...

"Please tell me your mother doesn't like big weddings," Darcy begs.

Natasha glances at her strangely, clearly having been listening.

Loki, however, doesn't save Darcy's dignity any further when he says, "Quite the opposite, actually. She's determined on throwing us a wedding fit for royalty...and I mean that quite literally. If there were rentable castles in America, she'd be booking one."

Darcy groans, dropping her head on the steering wheel and making the car give a loud beep. "Fuck my life," she groans, tossing her phone aside without even ending the call. "First a baby, then a wedding, and now a wedding _monster_...I need a drink."

"No drinks," Natasha pipes in, to Darcy's surprise (she'd forgotten about her).

"...Shut up, I'm mourning the loss of my social life," Darcy mutters.

"You mean you have one of those?" Natasha's too smug for ten at night.

Darcy flips her off.

.

.

.

"Jane, new plan. I have to cut _two_ bitches."

Jane just continues to rifle through the papers on the kitchen table. "Did you sleep well, Darcy?" she asks calmly, scribbling a quick note on the margin of a piece of paper.

"Did you sleep at all?" Darcy retorts, glancing down at Jane's papers and realizing they're some of her students' work. "Seriously. I came home and you were sitting here, doing this. This one looks slept one," she adds, studying a particular piece of paper.

"I dozed off a few times," Jane says absentmindedly.

"So you tried to pull an all-nighter again?" Darcy shakes her head disapprovingly.

"I got work done," Jane says, shrugging.

"But only because of the tons of caffeine in your system," Darcy says, picking up a coffee cup that rests beside Jane and swishes it. "Ooh, you still have some left? It feels cold, but whatever—"

Jane literally stands up and smacks the cup out of Darcy's hand in a panic. "_No_!"

"What?" Darcy freaks out. "Is it spiked?"

"Darcy, you're _pregnant_," Jane says.

"So it is spiked. Jesus, rub it in my face," Darcy grumbles.

Jane frowns. "Darcy, pregnant women can't have caffeine. It's harmful."

Darcy pauses. "Come again?"

"You didn't know that?" Jane asks, confused.

"No!" Darcy falls into a kitchen chair, suddenly exhausted even when she's just woken up. "Fuck, Jane, how am I supposed to do nine months of this? I know nothing about pregnancy!"

"Don't worry. You will," Jane says soothingly. "So who's the second bitch?"

"Come again?" Darcy asks, her first declaration forgotten.

"The second bitch you're cutting," Jane clarifies.

"Oh. Your boyfriend," Darcy says nonchalantly, walking over to fridge and ignoring Jane's jaw, which drops. "Do we have anything to eat for breakfast?" she asks her roommate.

Jane just rubs at her smeared mascara and shakes her head. "You know what, I'm not going to ask," she declares, more to herself than Darcy. "And no, we don't have anything for breakfast. I was going to go grocery shopping last night, but..."

"But you got sucked into science," Darcy finishes. "Whatever. I'll go buy doughnuts."

"Shouldn't you watch what you eat?" Jane questions.

Darcy's already heading to the door, pulling on her scarf and coat. "Let me think about it," she says, pausing, and placing a finger mockingly on her chin. "Yeah..._no_."

The doughnut shop's empty. Darcy buys twelve doughnuts (which is what they usually get), manages to restrain herself from buying coffee, so it's good all around, right? Wrong. Because who should come rolling by but none other than Loki Odison.

He doesn't look like hell. Darcy just muses that over for a while because, well, _she_ does. He's sharply dressed, even for a messy season like winter, and Darcy's in the same yoga pants and PTV T-shirt from yesterday, her hair up in the world's messiest bun.

"Darcy," he says, voice sounding relieved, like he'd been searching for her.

The only thing Darcy can do is blink and say, "Huh?"

And suddenly, he's kissing her. Darcy's first reaction would be to bitch slap the hell out of him, but he grips her arms and keeps her where she is, his mouth kissing hers gently. Um, so, wow. He's...not a bad kisser. But focus, Darcy! Don't let him win! She's placing her hands on his chest, about to push him the _fuck_ away, when suddenly he pulls away.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and he glances down at her, his brow looking kind of ridiculously furrowed in regret, and his tone just as apologetic as his eyes are when they meet hers. Then he pulls away so Darcy can see what's going on behind him.

Or who, rather, because Darcy can see two people standing near the door of the doughnut shop. One's a rather stoick, stern-looking man who doesn't look amused (and has an eyepatch—maybe he and Fury can be best friends), and the other's a woman, who's smiling fondly in Darcy's direction.

"Mother, father," Loki says, gently turning Darcy to face them, "may I introduce you to my fiancé, Darcy Lewis." He places a hand on the small of her waist—clearly he doesn't fucking know where his boundaries are—as he says this.

Darcy's still reeling from the kiss, though, and the prospect of meeting her in-laws (they're going to be that, right?), so all she does is stare and blurt out, "'Sup?"

Loki has to bite back a grimace.

.

.

.

"Turns out, Loki's parents dropped by unexpectedly," Darcy says.

Pepper, who Darcy's having lunch with, nods. "Ah," she says. "That explains why he stopped by your place in a panic, trying to find you. Jane called me after he left to the doughnut shop to find you."

"He went to my place? What a creep," Darcy grumbles.

Pepper sticks a french fry in her mouth and swallows it before saying, "So he dropped by, kissed you, introduced you to his parents, and what happened next?"

"I got their names. Frigga and Odin. Weird, right?" Darcy says, stealing one (okay, a few) or Pepper's fries. "Then he pretended to be some doting fiancé, just being too touchy-touchy and pretending I was the most beautiful thing he'd seen all day, but I hadn't even showered or put on makeup at the time."

"How'd you get off the hook?" Pepper asks.

"I told him Jane was dying."

Pepper raises an eyebrow. "And he believed you?"

"Well, he didn't, but his mother got concerned when she heard about my 'poor, cancer-stricken roommate'," Darcy explains. "She was all 'oh, dear, you'd better hurry back to your roommate' when I told her that. I'm pretty sure Loki was done with my shit at that point."

Pepper just nods, impressed. "So now you're lying to your in-laws," she says. "You two are actually going to play the whole we-got-engaged-because-we-were-in-love angle?"

"_He_ decided we had to, but I think it's because he just wants to show off that someone's actually in love with _him_," Darcy says, frowning at the thought. "Great, another thing to say to my parents. 'Oh, I know, he got me pregnant, but I also love him!' Yeah, they'll love that. Oh! Speaking of...I have to cut your boyfriend."

"Schedule a time, and he's all yours," Pepper says, not hesitating in the slightest.

Darcy snickers. "You have a _schedule_ for your boyfriend?"

"Trust me," Pepper advises, "if'd you date Tony, you'd never have an extra second to yourself in the day. He's like a big baby that always needs attention."

Darcy sighs. "Yeah, no thanks—I'm already getting one of those."

"Oh. That was bad wording, I'm sorry," Pepper apologizes.

"Doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure that's what my legacy is going to be in this world...the girl who failed to not be a teenage mother or a normal mother, but a freaking broke as hell mother in her early twenties," Darcy says grimly.

"Hey, you're going to be a great mother," Pepper says, laying a hand on Darcy's gently.

Darcy just steals another of Pepper's fries. "I don't know," she says, chewing on the salty, hot strip of potato. "This is hands down the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me, and I know your boyfriend."

"Fair point," Pepper says. "So, no work today?"

"Nope—I talked to Nick. We're close, so it's all good," Darcy says.

"Uh-huh." Pepper's tone is quizzical.

"...Okay, so, Natasha's covering my shift today, but Nick totally would've let me take the day off. He's a sweetheart," Darcy insists, but seeing how the corners of Pepper's mouth turn up at the sides, she just huffs and gives up on the subject. "What about you, mighty secretary of Stark Industries?"

"Tony and I had another fight. You know I can always get out of work when that happens and he won't care," Pepper says. "I figured I could stick around and help you. Where's Jane?"

"Off with her precious snot launchers," Darcy says, waving her hand. "Even when she's high on coffee and doesn't eat shit, she'll go off with those monsters. Teachers are insane."

"Yeah," Pepper agrees absentmindedly before she changes the subject. "So, you said you lied to Loki's parents and escaped. What happened afterwards?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that they invited me for dinner," Darcy adds.

"Today?"

Darcy nods. "Loki slipped in a few words before he left. Said it was normal for them to want to bond with me, yadda yadda, and he begged me to pretend I was madly in love with him or something for when I go."

"When's it start?" Pepper asks.

"Couple of hours," Darcy answers easily, going in for another of Pepper's fries before focusing back on her own food. She's just about to take a bite of her hamburger when suddenly she pauses, eyes widening in panic. "Holy shit, in a couple of hours!"

Pepper smiles knowingly. "Want some help with your wardrobe?"

"...Yes, please."

So two hours later, that's what Pepper's still helping Darcy with.

An hour ago, Darcy'd insisted, "I want to wear pants!"

Pepper'd refused. "You have to wear a dress to a fancy place!"

"You don't know if it's going to be fancy!"

"You don't know if it isn't!"

So fast-forward an hour, and Darcy's thrown out on Jane's bed (Pepper had refused to even look in Darcy's wardrobe and insisted Jane had better taste) while Pepper goes through Jane's closet, both ignoring the amounts of clothes spilled around them.

"It's pointless," Darcy complains. "Let me go like I am!"

"You're in jeans and a ratty T-shirt," Pepper retorts.

"Ratty? This is _Bring Me The Horizon_ merchandise—"

Pepper tosses Darcy a bundle of fluffy, fluffy pink that looks like it belongs on _Sesame Street_, yet somehow is one of Jane's (many) horrible dresses. "That one's nice," she suggests.

Darcy frowns. "Um, have you _looked_ at it? I'll look like a bundle of cotton candy!"

"It'll look better than what you have now!"

"No it won't!"

"_Darcy_. Just put the dress on, dammit!"

"I WON'T DO IT!"

It takes a few threats and badly-thrown hairbrushes before Pepper and Darcy reach an agreement. Darcy keeps the shirt ("It's still ratty," Pepper'd mumbled), but she has to put on a skirt ("Punk rock looks are in," Darcy'd decided, pulling out a black mini out of her own closet), and also, she has to put on proper makeup and curl her hair. Pepper curls Darcy's hair (and burns her ear a few times on purpose for revenge), and also does Darcy's makeup ("Like a clown's," Darcy had wailed, while Pepper'd frowned, offended).

Finally, Darcy's ready.

"Want me to go with you?" Pepper offers (though she looks tired from the whole helping-Darcy-with-her-wardrobe thing, so Darcy doesn't take the offer seriously).

"Nah, I'm good," Darcy says, waving off the offer. Then, to Pepper's general exasperation, Darcy stands up straight, grins like a fool, and says, "Time to make being engaged my bitch."

But even _she_ couldn't have predicted what happened next.

* * *

><p><strong>I think it's high time Darcy met her in-laws a bit more formally, don't you think? ;)<strong>

**ANYWAY, thank you guys for reviewing:**

**Hell Won't Have Me**  
><strong>FloraIrmaTylee<strong>  
><strong>JigokuShoujosRevenge<strong>  
><strong>Nolesr1<strong>

**You are all amazing. I'm surprised by the amount of people that are reading this. I wish I'd waited to post this chapter on Halloween or something, but I just couldn't wait. So happy early Halloween! Is anyone dressing up? I'm being Elsa from Frozen (but not by my own choice, ugh).**


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